Both are Iraq War veterans who suffer under the weight of anxiety and post-traumatic stress and the isolation of knowing their loved ones cannot possibly fathom the experience that consumed half a decade of their lives.

For Anderson and Voss — both southeast Wisconsin natives who returned from tours as infantrymen in Iraq to live in or just outside Milwaukee — the road to recovery is long — nearly 2,700 miles.

Their path to reintegration is mountainous, dry and winds through seven states across the nation.

But they are determined to make their steps count.

On Aug. 30, Anderson and Voss will embark on a walking journey from Milwaukee to Los Angeles. They will leave the Milwaukee County War Memorial at 10 a.m. and expect to arrive at their West Coast destination in January.

The five-month tour will take them across Iowa and Nebraska, over the Rocky Mountains, past the Grand Canyon and through the Mojave Desert.

It will be physically and emotionally exhausting, Anderson acknowledged on a sunny afternoon on the patio of Dryhootch, the E. Brady St. coffeehouse and veteran support group center where he works as the director of operations.

He called the trek a "mission" in language strikingly similar to the way he describes his time at war.

For Anderson, 30, the trek is neither an attempt to live in the past nor forget his time in the military. He describes it as a long-overdue interval of time to reflect, to pause before re-entering civilian life and take stock of the enormity of his experience in the theater of war.

"I never had the opportunity to take that time and say, 'What did I just do with my life? What have I been doing with my 20s?'" he said. "I got married a month before I first deployed in 2004. When I first got back, I was trying to be a husband. I never had time to stop for a bit and just think about what had just happened to me and what I'd just been a part of. That's kind of how I envision this trip."

Anderson did two tours in Baghdad, re-enlisting in the winter of 2007. As an infantryman, he provided security during the first round of Iraqi elections and escorted military contractor convoys.

Personal motivations for the walk notwithstanding, the trek has public aims. The two hope to raise $100,000 for Dryhootch in addition to raising awareness about problems facing veterans in Milwaukee and nationwide: PTSD, substance abuse and veteran suicide.

A military veteran commits suicide every 65 minutes, according to a report this year by the U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs. Gary Kunich, a public affairs officer at the Milwaukee VA Medical Center, said 29% of Iraq and Afghanistan veterans nationwide suffer from PTSD. Of the 9,500 returning combat veterans enrolled in the Milwaukee VA as of March, 370 are receiving case management for severe physical and mental health issues. The rest receive regular primary care.

Anderson was diagnosed with PTSD in 2006; Voss in 2008.

"I couldn't sleep; the only thing I could do to sleep was drink," Anderson said. "The problem wasn't flashback dreams. It was déjà vu. I would be back in Iraq in places and scenes where I'd been, but my dad or wife would be there with me, and we'd sort of have a conversation, like I'd say, 'What are you doing here?' And then I'd wake up."

For Voss, 29, much of the pain comes from seeing the soldiers who fought by his side in Iraq return home only to take their own lives. One soldier in his platoon committed suicide a few months ago, said Voss, who is on track to get a degree in social work from University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee.

He served as vice president of Dryhootch from 2010 until 2012. That's when he met Anderson. The two didn't know each other when they were in combat, even though they grew up in nearby cities. Voss grew up in Waukesha and lives in Milwaukee. Anderson lives in West Bend, his hometown, but went to high school in Milwaukee.

Voss said he is affected daily by intrusive thoughts and anxiety attacks. He rarely has time to deal with the thoughts that he said "rise up in my chest" — thoughts of the time his squad leader and sergeant were killed by his side, the time the replacement sergeant lost his right eye, the time he was hit in the head with a rocket-propelled grenade.

Anderson said the most crushing part of PTSD is isolation.

"I've spent the better part of the last five years of my life in the basement of my own house," he said. "You're angry. You're just angry about everything and at everyone. When my daughter was born, a year and a half ago, I felt something that was foreign to me. And that was happiness. It was fleeting; it's there and then it's gone, and then it's all back to rage."

Their parallel experiences in war — and similar struggles at home — will allow Anderson and Voss to help each other along the way, they both said, to push each other to the finish line and comfort each other when a desert seems too hot to cross or a mountain too tall to surmount.

"I'm not worried about being lonely because I've got Tom there," Anderson said.

The veterans also will have their phones, waterproof sleeping bags, some food supplies and other light gear. Whatever they bring, they must carry on their backs.

They chose L.A. because it is the farthest major city away from Milwaukee, Anderson said.

Though the two will complete the trek alone, they have invited people in cities and towns along the way to walk with them across their neighborhoods. Many have already come forward and offered their homes — promising a warm bed, a shower and a home-cooked meal.

Donors have propelled Anderson and Voss to 15 percent of their $100,000 goal.

The U.S. Concealed Carry Association made a $10,000 donation out of a desire to "help veterans help other veterans," the association's president, Tim Schmidt, said.

"Even if they don't make it all the way, though I personally believe they will, I'm a firm believer in the mantra of go big or go home," Schmidt said. He added that the concealed carry effort is not explicitly tied to veterans' issues, though "your typical veteran is certainly going to believe in the right to self-defense."

Bob Curry, a Vietnam veteran and founder of Milwaukee's Dryhootch, said the health of the veteran population depends on peer-to-peer services.

"Having gone down that path and made it out the other side, maybe we can shorten their struggle," Curry said.

Anderson has no doubt that they'll make it to L.A. If he can bring himself to make it across the country, he said, he hopes other veterans will be moved to start a Dryhootch in their communities.

Voss said he hopes the money will give Milwaukee's Dryhootch a more firm footing — and allow it to expand hiring and update services with new technology.

In five years, Voss said, he imagines he will still be working on behalf of veterans, either in social work or business.

Anderson said he wants to dedicate himself to his wife and his daughter.

As for now, "I'm still married, I've graduated," Anderson said. "But do I feel like I'm really back from war? Am I back?"

"No, not really," he answers his own question. "There are portions of me that are still caught over there."